


Winner Winner

by risquetendencies



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, but i really like these two together, i haven't written het in so long, otp battle 2014 entry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If at first you don't succeed… Alternatively, Mayuzumi is only a second version on the court. MayuMomo. Slight character study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winner Winner

Life is all a matter of perspective, Chihiro has come to realize, and personalities are essentially responsible for what facet of something someone takes to heart. He, for example, has the tendency to see the bleakest side to an issue. Not a naturally trusting individual, he’ll often look at the negatives before he acknowledges the positives. Some would say that’s not a very fulfilling way to live, but others might say it protects him from disappointment. He himself, is subject to different interpretations as much as anything else, after all.

It’s no secret how people view him when it comes to basketball. The ‘new and improved’ phantom sixth man, both the successor of and antithesis to Kuroko Tetsuya, who lacks the fundamental abilities Mayuzumi possesses. They both are versed in misdirection, only Mayuzumi can actually score, score as well as any regular player might in a given game. His prototype cannot. For this reason, and in general, Chihiro despises the comparison.

That it is the price of his admission to a regular spot on Rakuzan’s team, he disdains even further. None of those people ever considered him prior to Akashi’s ascendance and even his dubious savior of a captain only did so because of the similarities. You see, there were times where he was not content to be a shadow. It would have been gratifying to have a presence from time to time, and not having one made him mistrust any attempt by an outsider to breach his personal walls. Given the situation amongst his teammates, one can probably grasp his reason for caution.

Chihiro’s third and final year of high school was one that had dragged him through the ringer a number of times. Numerous grueling practices under the new leadership coupled with strict expectations had worn him down up until it had landed them deep into the Winter Cup. The match against Seirin was equal parts frustrating and disarming and the conclusion of the tournament was suspiciously void of the satisfaction he should have had as a victor. Lacking a reason why he should continue, he’d given up on basketball post-graduation.

Fast forward two years, and he was the closest he’d ever been to the sport since. Luckily that meant he still stayed comfortably enough on the periphery.

The lump sum of this closeness placed him sitting beneath a tree outside of Touou’s gym, having been unwittingly drafted for the task of picking up his girlfriend from her last day of high school strategizing. She’d claimed that as soon as she finished giving her successor a few key kernels of wisdom that she’d meet up with him. Following that, they planned on devoting the rest of the day to moving her into their shared apartment. Momoi was nothing if not practical, and had decided that two celebrations in one afternoon was overburdening. Maybe this weekend they’d remark her diploma accordingly, but not until then.

Flipping over the penultimate page of the light novel he’d brought to occupy himself with, Mayuzumi sank deeper into his self-reflection, dredging up some past events in the process. He was not by nature self-deprecating - rather the opposite, actually - but he never would have rated himself as the caliber of man to attract a woman like her. Bright, cunning, vivacious… there were many adjectives one could use to describe his female companion, and just about every one was complimentary. He was who he was.

In the earlier stages of their acquaintance, his confusion had personified itself in the festering theory that he was once more playing the second coming of Kuroko. Through others, he’d come to hear of her crush on the boy and the fact had nettled him greatly when he was left alone to stew on it. Looking at it from his negative purview, he’d felt justified to be self-conscious, even downright mistrusting. Thus it had taken her quite a lot of persistence to force his guard down and make him see her intentions as genuine.

Yet another facet to their coming-together Chihiro found ponderous was that he had been the one sought. Perhaps it was only appropriate though. Allowed to do as he’d please, he wasn’t the type to seek out others. Contrarily, Satsuki was bold and unafraid to chase what she desired.

As time had worn on, they’d developed a friendship foremost; both were cognizant of where it was heading, but neither were the type to rush into romance too quickly. After a few months of conversations, his annoyance had been challenged. One summer afternoon, almost assuredly prompted by the consumption of the same glacial treat, Momoi had recounted to him the tale of when Kuroko had first pinged on her heart’s radar.

The gray-haired teen had proved a most immature listener.

"I’m sorry but that is the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard. You honestly fell for him over a discarded popsicle stick?" He had clutched at his midsection, dramatizing his laughter in the most visible way possible. Chihiro was not a loud person, but he really was cracking on the inside, so gestures helped fill in the gaps. It was only after he’d begun that he had the thought that it might have sounded insensitive.

But then something amazing had happened. She had retaliated, quickly raising her several levels in his esteem.

"Mayuzumi-kun," Satsuki had chided, hands lodged confidently on either hip, "I didn’t think it was ridiculous then and I still don’t now. To me, I knew it was Tetsu-kun’s way of including me, and the fact that he did it in such a subtle way was smooth. So yes, I did fall for him! Even over a popsicle stick."

Examining the situation from an optimistic standpoint, one could argue that she had been enamored with the Kuroko off the court. Once he put aside his childish jealousy at finding himself interested in a girl so linked to his hated comparison, Chihiro had concluded that the optimistic answer was the true one.

Basketball, though only a sport, did bring out something special in a guy. But that guy could be very different when not playing. And because she liked the bluenette for those reasons, it boded well for him. He did not think he and Seirin’s shadow possessed many common traits outside the game, and soon enough he believed her when she said she enjoyed the sort of person he was.

The rest - their descent into love, first kiss, first fight, and first reconciliation, had flowed naturally once Mayuzumi was earnestly on board, and it had been a happy year or so that they’d been united. He couldn’t claim he never felt insecure, but once the major question of Kuroko had been laid to rest, the air surrounding them had been a heck of a lot easier to breathe in.

"Chihiro-kun!"

Momoi really did have a knack for things you least expected. Timing her arrival to his completion of the book’s final page was just one of the many examples.

He snapped to attention inwardly, outwardly playing the unaffected. Without haste, he closed his novel and took to standing, calmly waiting for his bubblegum-haired paramour to finish crossing the school’s lawn. Who was really picking who up here was questionable, Mayuzumi mused during the seconds in between. Regardless, she seemed in good spirits and that lightened his own attitude considerably.

"I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, but why weren’t you in the gym, Chihiro-kun? No one would have minded if you were in there with us while you waited for me to finish up." Her scolding was brief, any reprimand lessened by the fond way that she locked both arms around his middle and embraced him. After gracing her with a half-grin, Chihiro had dropped his shoulders to place a kiss upon her inviting lips.

"I believe your ace might have minded. It’s in his job description as protective childhood friend, after all," he quipped, arcing an eyebrow. Maybe one day her efforts to properly socialize him might bear fruit, but not this day. And so the battle raged on.

"You aren’t on Dai-chan’s bad side, but nice try. He even asked about you," Momoi chattered.

"More proof that he is secretly plotting against me, I’d say."

"Dai-chan doesn’t have the capacity for secret plots. He’s very straightforward," she countered, accurately. Best friends though the two may be, she told it like it was when it came to Aomine, and sure enough, he wasn’t the sly type. "Anyway, he was wondering if we needed any help moving in."

"Help? With moving in?" Now he was positively bamboozled. "He actually phrased it in those exact terms?"

"No, he… oh, I can’t remember how he put it, but it was in Dai-chan speak. He meant that, though. I know he did." With that clarification however, it began to make a little more sense. It wasn’t that the guy was discourteous, but his wayward attempts at helping his friends tended to get masked under words that made it seem like he didn’t really care. The same concept as a backhand compliment.

"Sure, I guess, just as long as he doesn’t expect me or you to feed him after."

"I think he knows that if anything, there’s a box of take-out with his name on it."

Mayuzumi nodded. That was sufficient.

"He said he’ll swing by in a few hours if he didn’t hear otherwise from me, so we don’t have to wait for him," she nudged, burrowing up close beside his lanky form as if to say ‘Take me home now.’

That time, his smile came out more luminous.

There was a Satsuki-sized space under his right arm and room enough in his other hand for a book. How his life could get any closer to paradise currently, Chihiro wasn’t sure. When you had everything you loved so close at hand, it was hard not to feel fortunate, and far too much effort to find any faults with. Call it a huge departure from his usual negativity but he was feeling pretty darned optimistic for the future.

Now and then it seemed that the second time, not the third, could be the charm.


End file.
